Cosmos Clash
by Lilaclia
Summary: What if every realistic dream you have is actually a memory from an alternate you in a different universe?


**Cosmos Clash**

* * *

Sometimes, he wakes up with a cheek plastered on his pillow, a slick coat of sweat gluing the two surfaces together to create one sticky, gross mess. Other times, he finds himself laying on the ground with his legs perfectly crossed over each other and he wonders how he ended up that way.

He finds that dreaming is weird. His control over his mind is literally snatched from him in the dark, his imagination decides to take a joyride and he doesn't even have the chance to pack some snacks for the trip. Occasionally, his dreams consist of reliving memories from his childhood, the days of collecting cards and venturing through many parks in search of the ultimate slide, there were also sightings of talking cows and flying red-eyed tarantulas in his slumber (usually on days when he ignores the warning that his mom constantly gave him as a child of not eating snickerdoodles before bed). There's one dream that frequents him, however, and no shady corner shack, with even shadier psychics, or old dream analysis guides have yet been able to pinpoint what it all means.

But when he tries to recall his dream, he realizes that they're different dreams every time, but there's always a constant. _Her_.

* * *

**i.**

This time, Naminé is at the top of the pop star world, but, as broadcasted to the rest of the world thanks to the paparazzi that loves to stick to her heels, she's nursing a broken heart, and Roxas is a mere mildly popular rock ballad singer. While his cheeks are being dusted with the faintest hint of concealer, he stares at a page with the lyrics, a single headphone dangling by his side, the other in his ear; he has to make sure his lip-syncing is on point for the music video.

Naminé is sure that closing her eyes for ten seconds will land her in a five hour nap so she widens her eyes instead but stops once she realizes her makeup artist has her mouth scrunched up at her."What?" Naminé asks simply.

Kairi stares back at her, trying to hold in the sigh that Naminé knows is ready to burst. "I know that your break up was tough but look, we've got things to do today," Kairi says as her hands gesture to the elegant film set her company graciously managed to rent out.

Naminé shuts her eyes in frustration. The digging in her chest deepens when she thinks about why she couldn't manage to fall asleep last night despite knowing it would take an extra ten minutes to cover that fact up with makeup. Before it can cut her deeper, she steels herself with determination to get through the day's filming.

"And hey," Kairi says offhandedly as she packs up her various eye pencils, "maybe that singer will serve as a cute distraction for today." Naminé scoffs.

A few hours later, Naminé learns that what Kairi said could have been considered a warning. Instead of occupying her mind for a few hours, he turned into her distraction for the next few months. Filming with him was a weird experience, not because they had to portray lovers for a song she wrote based on the relationship Naminé had just gotten out of, but because of the way she felt every time his arm would hang over her shoulder with such ease or when his hands would slowly, one finger at a time, clasp hers tightly, as though he were locking them in place to stay there forever.

At the end of the day, she was ready to tell Roxas to think about acting because Naminé is sure he made _her _believe they were crazy for each other.

She rushes home, exhausted from recording part of her self-made album, only to snatch a remote off her dresser, jump on her bed and relax with a pillow tucked under her chin. She tunes into Roxas mid-sentence. "It's not over yet," she says in relief and settles to lay in her comforter. Naminé's little fascination with the fellow singer turned her into a fan.

The day they wrapped up filming her music video with him, he had stayed back to help some staff members clean up the food. Food that he hadn't even touched because he was too concentrated on preparing himself so he would be as efficient as possible in front of the glaring camera. From then on, Naminé started noticing blonde spiky hair whenever she was backstage for a music festival and maybe, just maybe, she dedicated a whole shelf in her room to his discography along the way too.

Accepting the fact that she was not much different than any one of his pre-teen fans, Naminé does gleefully believe that she's on one level higher than them. Her and Roxas became friendly after that special filming day, and in a world where the competition is so tough that you can't leave the public's eye for a second lest you be kicked away by the next new talented singer that's just waiting for a slight opening, a friend who understands is a lucky thing to have. Plus, when they both shared an interview last week, she's sure a hint of pink dusted his cheeks when she let slip that she found his hair cute.

Roxas is recording with her tomorrow since he's featuring in one of her songs, her most favourite actually, (Naminé would never say but she suspects that she unconsciously wrote in quite a few long, hard to hit low notes with specifically his voice in mind) and she's thinking about asking him out for lunch. Just as a treat for wrangling him into her album, of course.

But for now, she uses her pillow as a cushioned cave to shove her face in as she hears the beginning of his live performance for his newest ballad that she swears regenerates her being every time she listens to it as it speaks to her soul in fifty one different ways and then to her heart in another seven.

* * *

**ii.**

This time, Naminé is an event organizer, except all of the local DJs are booked since it's clubbing season and Roxas is a college student, innocently trying to eat his weekly dose of banh mi in the mall's food court. She plops down at the nearest empty seat she sees and throws her bag on the table. Her eyes shut as she smooths down her forehead in preparation for the twenty-years-too-early wrinkles she's sure this week is going to give her.

Roxas sits on the other side of the table and interrupts her mental rant, "Would you like one?" because he's sure Axel is going to be thirty minutes late and wouldn't mind having his food sacrificed for a girl who looks like she needs a hand.

Naminé smiles and shakes her head, but something about the upturning of her lips causes Roxas to stick his nose somewhere it doesn't belong. "Just hang in there," he's not sure what he's aiming for, but he gives himself credit for trying. "The world has a funny way of making things work out."

She's ready to give him a polite smile and leave the good-looking boy to his meal, but her meowing ringtone interrupts her and she learns that Kairi did manage to find a replacement DJ. So she stays, accepts the food offer, thanks him for being right and, before she realizes it, finds herself on her seventh date with her kind stranger.

On more than one occasion, Roxas skips a lecture to go check out the latest event Naminé is helping out with. He makes sure to be there the whole time for the 2013 FanCon though, because not only does he want to get his hands on some limited edition comics and out-of-production video games (and maybe catch a glimpse of his favourite video game director), but because Naminé is leading the whole event. He walks into the venue with a shield of pride surrounding him.

Despite standing in line for 2 hours, he still gets stuck near the back for the video game panel, unable to scratch his nose in fear of elbowing someone. Roxas, along with the rest of the crowd, reverts into a screaming child watching a magician take stage when Tetsuya Nomura walks on. When the man is in the middle of discussing why, after 8 years, they've only _just _started development for the third installment of a game fans have been anxiously waiting for, the projector fails and a bunch of people huddle to the front.

In an attempt to distract the audience from the technological failure (and the previous question), Nomura brings forward the event's head planner to have her take a bow. She nervously shuffles to the center of the stage and shakes hands with a smiling Nomura.

Naminé says a few words, but it all falls silent on Roxas because the pride he held himself upright with when he first walked in the building is now threatening to bring him to his knees under the immense pressure of it. He beams at her from somewhere in the crowd.

Axel stubbornly holds his stolen bahn mi over Roxas's head. Apparently Roxas can't make up for it no matter how many pizzas he buys or insanely dangerous bonfires he goes to with Axel. The guy proudly holds himself responsible for his best friend being able to charm Naminé which meant (indirectly) helping Roxas land himself the single thing that makes him most happy.

* * *

**iii.**

This time, Roxas hangs around alleyways that smell like musty cigarettes and convenient stores with peeling paint—his preferred places to make art—while Naminé chooses to hang around in her cozy studio, doing the same thing.

He is older, she remembers meeting him she'd entered high school while he was in his second year of university, but he feels more lost than she ever has. The most confusion she's encountered are days when she doesn't know what to paint. Abstract or traditional? Should the focal point dangle off to the side or should it encompass the whole art piece? Greyscale or play around with a set of sea blues in various tones?

But they're not the questions he asks himself. He has to wonder if the cops are around, but they never are because they stopped caring about what he did. With his friends gone with the dust, he's left continuing this juvenile game of spray painting their Nobody insignia by himself because no one is around anymore. There's only her.

He convinces himself that she's sticking to him like a bug when in reality, he's the one who stands by her studio every morning. Hoodie pulled up, hands shoved as deep as his pockets will let him and looking every bit like the sketchy guy he makes himself out to be, but Naminé knows better and always invites him in. A nod and a small smile does the trick.

Roxas criticizes her work. Calls her stiff and unemotional; copied and pasted straight from the book. She hasn't seen true art, he says.

So one day, he takes her. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the place where he roams free with no one around to watch him. He takes her to the city and down side streets and narrow walkways, past the town houses and in between apartment buildings until finally, he stops at a grand wall. It's white, or rather, it was white. Now, it's extensively covered in graffiti. No brick stands stainless.

"The Great Wall," he says lifelessly, exactly the opposite of what's clearly been splattered on the wall in various ways. "Named after the one in China of course, but it's my own personal great wall. Well, the crew's..." he trails off and settles on watching Naminé run her finger over a particular design.

"Why a phoenix? Why fire?" she asks, her finger tracing the swirl as far as it goes. It's by far the prettiest piece in sight.

"Because he liked them. My best friend, he wanted it as a gift, and I had to promise that it would represent him."

Naminé hums. "Vibrant and full of energy, right?" She turns to him and quietly speaks. "Why don't you do serious pieces anymore?" He ignores her comment in favour of admiring the sky, so she ignores her words too. "I think I would have liked to meet him."

He merely chuckles in response. She hears a tint of sadness laced in. "He was kinda like you, well the _you _when you're not painting," he kicks a nearby rock and keeps his gaze down. "Sometimes it's like painting sucks the life out of you."

She ignores his comment this time. After a few more minutes of analyzing the wall while her admiration grows for the person behind her (had he done all of this on his own?), Roxas takes her back to her studio.

After a few minutes of scavenging around, Naminé sets him down on a stool positioned in front of a large canvas.

There's an array of tools beside him—pastels, conté, watercolour paint, charcoal—and the only thing she says to him is, "Art."

But it's accompanied by the briefest of touches on his upper arm and nothing, not even his thick hoodie, can stop the sensation it sends down his arm. The word feels more like a command and suddenly, there's colour in front of him.

Had he done that? He looks to his right hand and there's a spray can. Even now, he's sure it's the only tool he'll ever need. And with one more look at her, a smile aimed right at him, he starts spraying more yellow because he has to get her hair just right.

* * *

**iv.**

This time, they are two people walking on opposite ends of a forest, except Roxas is chased by a dog. Not just any dog, but one with claws like a razor blade because one swipe and it's lights out since you'll have bled dry in a mere three minutes. Naminé searches around for movement as she hears the distinct low howl of the dog and then a louder call—it has friends.

Naminé hears something towards her right and runs toward the big oak and waits. Her assumption was correct and the runner—or better yet, the chasee— cuts through the clearing and is headed her way. The moment she hears a twig snap nearby, she thrusts her hand out and clutches the worn out fabric as tight as she can; her mind only focused on bringing it closer to herself. "Stay here," she whispers to the tense body of warmth. She makes sure to send a quick squeeze to the arm she holds, right before letting go and stepping out from behind the tree.

She lets out a low whistle, one that the boy disorientedly thinks resembles the dog's howl, and patiently waits for the sound of paws padding against the forest floor before she puts on a small smile. The dog stops right in front of her, practically obediently. She bends down to scratch the top of his head as the dog's tongue hangs loose in glee.

He hears the familiar sound of pieces of paper brushing against each other and then he sees the girl take out a small blank scrap, scribble something on it and then gingerly pet the dog once more. The animal takes one look at him, stares back at the girl who pet him and then runs back in the direction from where the horrid beast came. The boy is glad.

So glad, in fact, that his legs decide to fail in the one thing they were supposed to do and he sits on top of the forest floor. Not even a hint of humiliation makes its way over to him because he's still high on the relief that he managed to get away from the dog, he's proud of himself. But as a shadow casts over him, he looks over to his true saviour. She drops down to take a seat beside him, "Um," he vaguely wonders why she's sitting so close to him, "Thanks for saving my butt there."

She laughs and the boy thinks that he prefers that sound to the howl of the dog which he's sure is going to haunt him for the next thirteen days. And maybe an extra five years after that. "You're welcome. You have to be careful of the Shadow dogs."

"They're all kept as training dogs in Radiant Garden, right?" He glances over to the kingdom over on the other side of the forest, while trying to inconspicuously shift over to put some space between him and the girl. "Don't know why there'd be a stray one here in 100 Acre Wood."

The girl rests her head against the tree and closes her eyes. "Yeah," she says softly. He figures she's not paying attention anymore and he's fine with that since neither is he, because her hair is glimmering almost a gold under the soft rays of the sun, although there's a few loose pieces that are swaying in the wind and he maybe wants to put them back into place. But he doesn't.

Instead, they spend the day together. He shows her what he knows about the forest. Some really great trees and the best ways to climb up them. He knows all of the perfect footholds and tricks to hide under the branches. She masters it all, even quicker than he had himself, but he decides to keep that information to himself. He thinks that he might even teach her his method of sitting at the very top of some of the trees if she sticks around for that long.

In return, she shows him what berries are the best to eat and which caves are the best for hiding out in the rain. An hour with him and she trusts him enough to confide her most secret cave—the one that stretches on and on and right when you think you're lost forever in a blanket of darkness, a swirl of fireflies greets you in every direction.

She can't help but giggle at the childish look of delight that takes over the boy's face when a firefly lands on his nose. He thinks he hears whispers bouncing off the walls of the cave, but he is distracted as he tries to stare intensely at the firefly so he can pinpoint where its glow is originating from. But he loses his chance once the girl lightly pokes his nose. "Let's head back," she says, almost dejectedly. When he is caught between asking why or unquestioningly following her lead—he chooses the latter.

A crowd of people in horses are waiting there to ambush them when they get out and he is ready to grab the girl and run, but stops when he hears her calmly sigh. "I thought I'd have a few more hours this time."

"Humble apologies, Princess." A man wearing an elegant cape says to the girl. The boy is sure the stranger's tone wasn't mocking.

The girl sighs once more, but a smile is on her face when she smiles down at the boy from atop a horse of her own. "Well, it looks like I've been caught for today. Maybe I'll get to see you here again?" She brings her horse closer to him and whispers, "You can show me how to climb the big mountains next time," she draws back and holds out a hand. "Naminé."

He stares wide-eyed at her. "Roxas... Your Majesty?"

Naminé smiles, but he's sure it's not as big as the other ones he's seen from her that day. "Just a mere princess of Radiant Garden. Besides, we're friends."

Roxas can only nod in agreement as he sees her leave with the rest of her party. He catches her glancing back, and he sends a small wave her way before speaking, "You can come out now."

"No harm in taking precautions. But," he drawls the word out. "I see you've made a friend?" Axel says to him as he leans against a tree.

Roxas smirks at him, "You're still my best friend, no worries. Are we leaving now?"

"Nice to hear that." Axel turns to the rest of the soldiers behind him. "We're heading back! I'm sure the King of Traverse Town will be glad to hear his Crown Prince is coming back quietly from one of his getaway ventures. For once." He mutters the last part quietly and Roxas makes sure his elbow comes in contact with his tall friend's ribs.

* * *

**v.**

This time, they're both innocently on a school trip after Naminé's two weeks of incessant begging to her parents. Roxas knows her, she's the prodigy artist all of his friends have a fascination with, and to her, he is the school's pride as the reigning national Struggle champion.

But right now, they're both reduced to scared children. The announcement, "Everyone, please evacuate the building in an orderly fashion. There are boats docked at the station. Make your way there as soon as possible. Be sure to only take necessary belongings," sent off alarm bells in everyone's heads.

Then a rumour quickly swept through the student lodge—dead students are laying on the beach. One of their hearts was washed to shore. Another's arm is hanging off the island's flag pole. Not too long after, the bodies started dropping from within the lodge and that was enough evidence for terror to make its reign within everyone.

They're running in the woods. Naminé has been dragged to enough horror movie nights with Kairi to know that it's exactly the stage where everything goes from bad to worse. But she keeps that to herself.

Roxas is dragging her by the hand now, because although the footsteps aren't following them anymore, they're even more tense than when they had first seen the hooded figure. There's an air of mystery up now.

"You'd think years of waving around a Struggle Bat would help me in a situation like this," he practically chokes on the bitterness as the words come out of his throat.

They're in a cabin now, which screams trouble but Naminé keeps quiet yet again because making a sound might mean death. Two of the three boats have left the island already and anyone standing around, out in the open, on the dock for the last boat to leave might as well consider making themselves a death bed with the beach's sand.

Roxas can feel his fingers shaking, and he tries to concentrate on maintaining his breathing so he doesn't sound like he's choking on nothing. But it's her fingers entwining with his that his mind decides to zero in on.

She lifts herself up on her toes just a bit and stares him straight in the eyes, searching for something. He doesn't know what for, but if it's fear then he definitely knows it isn't going to be a hard search. She lets out a long, steady breath, and he finds himself doing the same thing.

"Try to keep hope."

Roxas decides he hasn't leaked out enough bitterness today, "I don't think I even remember what that means."

She keeps in mind to make her movements slow as not to make a squeak because right now, that would translate into a blaring suicide signal. She takes a step closer. Raises her arms. Holds her head low, but keeps her eyes locked on his.

He can feel himself getting warmer as his skin makes contact with hers, her arms encircling him in a feeling he's sure should not be making him dizzy in this situation. She softly rests her head on his shoulder, and with one hand, keeps a firm grip on the fabric of his sleeve.

"Not remembering something doesn't really mean that it's gone." Her whisper warms his neck even more.

But then they hear several branches being pushed away and not too far away, someone lets out a screech.

They had expected Destiny Islands to be a place for them to have fun, build friendships and maybe jump into an island getaway fling. No one thought it would be the place they were destined to die.

* * *

**vi.**

This time, they're both attending Radiant Garden Academy of the Arts and Naminé just wants make a career out of her talent so she can pay off her careless father's debts, while Roxas wants to prove he's _something _to his dad. Things are tough, but they both end up attached at the hip and that makes things slightly bearable.

One day, it gets to Naminé. There's too much to worry about—is she going to be able to make money, will it be enough to pay off her debts and support her younger sister Kairi? The pressure isn't just a weight on her chest, it's thin fingers that envelop her neck and they're slowly tightening their hold. Soon enough, the feeling of failure will crush the little breathing room she has left.

Roxas trails after her when she doesn't return his wave and walked by him unsteadily. She carelessly crosses the street (She defends herself later. "It was green when I stepped onto the street." He glares, "But then it wasn't green a few seconds later.") so Roxas grabs her by the hand when the cars start moving and he asks if she's crazy, his tone biting.

Now she's looking into his eyes, sharing her troubles and he's sure that she hasn't taken notice of the tears on her own cheeks because she's too fixated on the words that won't stop flying around in her mind as she tries to convey it all to him. Then, "I'm going crazy," she lowers her head.

Roxas looks away, making a choice, and then he takes his chance after one last look at her tears. He cradles her head to his shoulder, an arm around her waist. Trying to be careful, he smooths down her hair and for some reason, Roxas feels like the one who's being comforted instead of the other way around.

It's when a couple of cars honk at them for their "obnoxious PDA" in the middle of the street that they flee, blushes more than obvious as they avoid looking at each other.

They stroll to the park and there, they make their promises. The sun had gone down long ago but they continue to share hushed whispers about how they'll share the same debut stage; it'll be together or it won't happen at all. It's selfish, they have their own families to worry about and they can't wait for each other, but they both pretend it isn't.

In the end, Roxas doesn't keep his promise. He's pushed into standing on a real stage and showing himself to the world; his father was about to pull him out of school and set him in front of textbooks. Time was becoming a thing of dreams, and if he wanted his real dream to come true then it was now or never. But as Naminé stands there, watching him perform with another girl—the grip of betrayal is what tightens around her neck this time.

She practices with Riku instead. The school calls them the Destati Duo. Naminé finds herself smiling more and everyone notices. The guys in the DJ room have bets on when the two will get married.

When Roxas takes a break from promoting his first single and goes back to school, he notices her new smiles too. He especially notices that they're not real.

He takes her back to the park and Naminé wonders how much more of a sour taste he'll leave behind at the end of the day.

He asks her about her smiles. She says he's seeing things. He insists and once again, she just wants to be his best friend again. Naminé wants to laugh and smile and dream of the days when they'll sing to their heart's content together in front of a crowd that loves them. And if the chance had arose, maybe she'd say the words she's wanted to tell him for awhile through music...

But Naminé's living in the past now, because he's eons away while she's still alone, left in a ditch.

Roxas pulls her out. He caresses her cheeks so she'll look at him and her eyes are filled with fear, the fear that'd been there since the first day he saw her singing in the practice room and worrying about the day she'll sing for the world. His insides squeeze when he thinks about how he'd only made it worse when he left.

So he does a terrible thing. He hugs her again.

Later, Naminé thinks it's not so terrible because she needed it. She lets him do as he pleases, but when she feels a foreign cold tear roll from the top of her head to her ear, she hugs him back tight and wants nothing more than to see him smile. She'd hear his explanations later, but for now, she's sure they'll be okay again.

* * *

**vii.**

This time, Roxas is away on a business trip and Naminé lays her tired butt on the bed after a long day at work. It's been like that for a few weeks now, and there's still two months left until his arrival flight will land.

She busies herself with work in the morning as well as during the day, plus she has her friends to meet with at coffee shops and Thai restaurants every couple of days. Besides, she's used to coming home to an empty apartment after work, so it's nothing new.

But the air turns frigid when it's time to eat dinner and there's no one there to smile when Naminé throws in shredded bits of paopu fruit into the lasagna. She takes some over to Sora, who has an automatic grin on and promises to eat it with a happy heart, but it's not the same.

It's worse at night because Naminé can never fall asleep quickly. Her friends have said that people who are sleep-deprived can fall asleep within ten minutes, but she's tried that out for the last five years and it's never proven to be true for her yet. She found a remedy eventually, but currently, his body warmth is stuck lingering in another town while she's still at home.

Elsewhere, Roxas falls asleep for the fifth time in the meeting, and he feels a small kick hit his shin before he jolts up to straighten himself on the chair. Xion directs a plastered smile toward him and he can see her eyes screaming at him about how obvious his movements were.

He's missing cozy couches and light giggles and soft touches on the waist too much to bother putting more effort into staying awake.

Roxas takes a cab back, and he's trying not to be (too harsh of) a backseat driver, but he's sure taking that left turn would have taken him to his hotel quicker. He makes it home though, with twenty minutes to spare and he only thinks to loosen his tie while his laptop boots up.

There's still some more to wait until the predetermined meet up time, but she's on and he doesn't question it because they're both grinning widely once they can see each other on their screens.

They both might be unpunctual people, but they were more than early for this date.

Naminé shows him the bag load of books she bought and right before they end the call, she quietly says, "I wish I would throw these books across your chest just so you know how much it hurts to miss you," and knowing she'd usually keep her thoughts locked under key, Roxas is more determined than ever to finish things up in that town and close the deal already.

When he finally comes home, it's three weeks early and Naminé scolds him for not giving her an advance warning because she didn't get the chance to meet him at the airport. She doesn't hold a grudge for long though, because after laughing at the cheesy gift Roxas had bought her—couple shirts with teddy bears on them, of all things— they huddle into bed.

Naminé finally gets to throw her legs over his as his arms settles behind her head. He gives her the gentle, lazy grin that she is so fond of, but that doesn't stop her from kissing it away as her hand comes up to ruffle his hair. Her hand stays there too long while her kiss stays playful and slow.

Roxas smiles into her lips because the childish look on her is a nice surprise. He tugs her hand that's nested on his head, lays it on the back of his neck, even though the contact still causes his chest to flutter a little more, and then he breaks away to breathe into her neck.

"Missed you," he whispers and Naminé feels the area of skin letting out a warm tingle.

Her other hand comes to wrap around his waist and she starts tracing slow circles into his clothes. "Yeah," she says, because it's more than enough.

* * *

Hands grasping for a pillow, Naminé yawns when she knocks over her phone instead. Then a groan erupts when she straightens her resting position and realizes she slept weirdly as she's hit with the feeling of fifty needles piercing the side of her neck. She slaps a hand to her neck, but it does nothing so she groans again.

She'd had another one of those dreams.

Naminé gets up from her bed instead of pondering over the empty sensation that's taken over her insides because she woke up disappointed because of a dream, for the first time.

Her dream led her to believe she'd open her eyes to a ruffle of golden blonde hair and hear the soft whistle of quiet breathing beside her. Naminé groans again, washing away that feeling is priority and a warm shower should be a decent cure.

She is in the middle of her morning bathroom routine when Kairi informs (yells in the hallway to) her roommate that they have a lunch date with the rest of the girls. After some through-the-door negotiating with Kairi, she gets three hours alone.

As soon as she's out of the comfort of the shower mist and back in her room, she takes one glance at her paint tools in the corner of the room, nods and then sets off to find an outfit in the jungle she calls her closet.

From behind the car window, Naminé wends a wistful look to the forest they drive by. She thinks going in there and learning how to climb trees would be a nicer way to spend her time. But Kairi takes her where Kairi wants, so Naminé settles for sighing.

When they get to the cafe, Naminé nibbles on her cake. The girls are talking about how jealous they are of Selphie's new boss' flowing long silver hair, but Naminé shuts her eyes once her mind, once again, flashes back to the dream she had last night. And the hollow feeling has come back for revenge.

But there's also a blush creeping up her face, because she had dreamed of a boy who was _special _to her. If Kairi knew, she'd never live it down. Helplessly, she struggles to picture severed kitten heads to fight back against the blush.

Her friends get up soon after and she follows, they're heading to meet a group of others elsewhere. But as they walk into the shop, something glistens with the help of the sunlight coming from the window. She squints to take a better look.

Her mouth is slightly agape and her arm stretches forward and she tugs when she grasps onto something.

Roxas turns to look at whatever's pulling him backwards.

It's the face of the boy Naminé's sketchbooks are filled with, the face she just started painting on a fresh canvas. It's the face of the girl Roxas has tried to describe to his friends so many times, the face he wasn't sure actually existed.

_Hey, I've seen you before_. They mirror the same growing smile.

( _And maybe I want to see you more_, says a whisper in both of their minds.)

* * *

**A/N:** Written for a friend of mine, hello SHSL Aegyo, who I promised months ago that I'd show her something. Longer than expected (as usual) and not my usual writing style as it was more an experiment, but I hope it was okay!

And to anyone reading, which universe/dream did you like best?


End file.
